Missing Wanderer
by LionshadeSC
Summary: After the fall of the Institute two weeks prior, Sole Survivor Nora is missing. Her companions Hancock and Valentine, fraught with worry, decide to set out and find her. But where is she and why can't she be found? Railroad ending WITH SPOILERS, two-shot, can be seen as romance becauseican'thelpiti'msorryilovethem
1. Chapter 1

Nick felt the deep rumbles from the earth, just as everyone across the Commonwealth did, when the Institute was destroyed and brought to its knees. Didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who the executioner of the boogeyman was, not after watching the Survivor of Vault 111 leave his office just a few short weeks ago with a freezing fire behind her eyes and a determined frown lining her mouth.

After finding Dr. Virgil in the Glowing Sea, the Survivor opted to leave Nick in Diamond City in exchange for Deacon as the Main Objective drew closer and closer by the day.

Nick did not hold it against her when she asked if he could stay in Diamond City, and she asked him again and again if it was okay, if their friendship would remain even if he didn't accompany her. He reassured her as often as she asked that they would always be alright; they had gone through too much together for their friendship to just fizzle, especially after what she did for him by bringing down Eddie Winter. He could recall every part of their conversation before she chose to leave-

" _Don't worry about it, doll," he assured with a gentle murmur. "I'll be waiting for you right here when you get back and need some time to relax in Diamond City. Got some cases you can help me look over." His mouth turned up in a half-smile, like some secret shared between them._

 _Her thankful smile grew, her bright green eyes shining, and Nick opened his arms for her to close the space between them and slide into his structured embrace. The synth couldn't help but tighten his arms around her for one more moment before she slid away. She regarded the detective a little sadly, her gaze just slightly regretful._

 _Nick could only return her smile in kind, morphing his own worn face so it reflected some sort of hopeful expression. It seemed to win her over, because after a moment of deliberation, the Sole Survivor of Vault 111 slipped through the door and into the uncertain._

That was about two months past.

After two weeks of not seeing her, the Institute fell, and the fate of the Commonwealth shifted.

Nick released a heavy, albeit fake sigh (as he did not need to breathe), and leaned forward onto his desk. His elbows held his weight as he pressed them against the wood, and his fingers joined together to form a steeple that barely brushed his synthetic lips.

The creak of the office door diverted Nick's attention elsewhere, and he turned in anticipation of a new customer. He couldn't help but look forward to another case. Maybe one with a runaway that would let him take a walk in the Commonwealth and see some of the sights. He needed some kind of distraction from this incessant worrying.

Of course, traveling alone _had_ lost some of it's appeal since – since –

Nick shook his head of such thoughts filled with worry – _where was she, where was she, WHERE WAS SHE?! –_ and instead pulled himself valiantly into the mindset of neutral synth detective, one who wasn't affected by such things as the Institute or worrying over absent partners.

All hopes of attaining that blissful, numbing mindset disappeared like morning mist in the sunlight as none other than the mayor of Goodneighbor himself, John Hancock, slid through the doorway and into the office.

Nick might have fallen out of his chair if he didn't immediately grab for his desk with one hand. " _Hancock_?" he gasped, staring as his hairless brows raised in shock. He regarded the mayor with a skeptical gaze, taking in the ghoul's twitchy movements and anxious tapping of his fingers against his thigh. "Not that I ain't pleased to see an old friend, but what would the infamous Mayor of Goodneighbor want with a synth detective?"

"Where is she, Valentine?" was all Hancock answered with. Nick glanced up at the ghoul beneath his fedora, stilled by the stiff and cold response from the mayor. He was upset, and though his question was vague, Nick had a sneaking suspicion he knew _exactly_ who Hancock was asking about. Wanting to put off an air of confidence, he dug into his pocket for a cigarette and a lighter.

"Who?" he quizzed in an attempt to verify, but honestly, who else would Hancock be asking about but Nora?

Practiced fingers pulled a cig from the packet and flipped the switch on the lighter a few times so it sparked to life. The flickering flame danced as Nick brought it to the butt of the cigarette, cupping a free hand around the lighter to shield it until the fire caught. The synth detective could almost _feel_ the annoyance from the ghoul as it crackled and bristled through the air like static electricity. Nick breathed in a puff of the hot nicotine and tilted his head back to regard the mayor calmly.

"Who?!" the ghoul snarled, his fists clenched at his side. "Who do you _think_?! Nora! _Where is she_? She hasn't been to Goodneighbor in _weeks,_ and she – she-" The fight all but fled out of Hancock in one breath, and his shoulders lost their tension as he looked at Nick with an expression pretty close to hopeless desperation. His voice fell so it was as soft as falling ash, "Nora, she – she _always_ stops by Goodneighbor every few days, even just to trade some supplies. _Always_." Nick could hear the tearful choke in Hancock's voice. It wavered uncertainly as the ghoul opened and closed his fists at his side, and he looked away. "Haven't heard anything from her in _weeks_ , Nick. If anyone would know where she is, it'd be you."

Nick released a tense breath of air, and the smoke spilled from his synthetic lungs in one cool breath. "Guess again, Mayor," and he saw Hancock's face fall, "I'm in the same boat as you. Haven't seen her since before the Institute fell. Haven't heard word of her coming in or out of the city, either."

Hancock started _shaking_. Nick's optics narrowed as his brows lifted higher up his forehead. "What?!" the mayor exclaimed, his voice close to a roar, "No-no, she _has_ to have been here. How- how could- where _is_ she?! She wouldn't have- when the Institute-" Hancock swallowed, and the mayor dared to voice the fear that had plagued Nick's mind ever since the explosion. "You don't think she's . . . _dead,_ do you?"

At Hancock's question, Nick flinched, and ducked his head down. "No," he mumbled around his cigarette, refusing to believe such a thing. There was no way she could be dead. He would have _felt_ something if she was; the world would have felt different, it would have _changed_ with her light gone.

Hancock didn't seem entirely comforted by Nick's answer, and he shifted nervously where he stood in the door. His breathing picked up like he was going to panic, and then his hairless brows knit together in a frown that might be determination. "Well . . . if you don't know where she is, then who _would_? We've gotta go after her. Would maybe that one gal know where she is? Y'know, the reporter?"

"Piper?" Nick looked up again from beneath his fedora, then over to Ellie. The secretary shook her head at him, pen in hand as she scribbled down the majority of the conversation, as was her job to record all the happenings-on of the office. At her denial, Nick turned his gaze back to the mayor. "Not likely. She's working on her next big story since the fall of the Institute. Besides," Nick took another deep inhale from his cigarette, then let it out from slightly pursed lips. "I don't think she's been out with Nora since before Kellogg, even." A sidelong glance to Ellie prompted her to nod in agreement with him.

The mayor only deepened his frown, and his lips turned down, displeased. "Well, who then? Someone's gotta have an idea of where she is. She took someone with her to get rid of the Institute. And we _know_ it wasn't the Brotherhood." All parties paused for a moment, thinking about the fiery inferno that was the remains of the Prydwen. Hancock picked up the silence with a drawn out, "So. . . who did she take with her?"

For Nick, the answer seemed obvious after thinking about who Nora joined with. He knew her well, well enough to know that she probably agonized over the choice when push came to shove, that she would choose the path that saved the most lives . . . but one that also came with a terrible cost by destroying the Brotherhood.

Nick sighed. "There's only one person I can think of that might possibly know where she is," and he stood to his feet, "but you're not going to like it," he acknowledged. The detective moved around the office, grabbing things he might need while Ellie snagged some extra supplies Nick might forget.

Hancock didn't seem to catch Nick's drift, because his face scrunched up in thought, his already wrinkled nose managing to wrinkle more. "What? Who?" he asked, unsure.

Adjusting the worn fedora over his head, Nick tightened the belt through his trench coat and started towards the door.

"Deacon."

Hancock's face immediately fell into one of exasperation, and his rough voice released a single groan.

"Knew I should have packed some Jet to take with me."

 **thanks for reading part 1! there will be either 3 or 2 chapters; the whole thing is written out. the next chapter will be uploaded tomorrow morning! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

The way to the Old North Church was blessedly quiet, but the Railroad HQ was anything but as the synth and ghoul made their entrance. Nick saw Tinker Tom in his usual corner cooking up some new device. Desdemona stood at her typical place over the round map of the Commonwealth, and there, sitting nearby, was their target.

Deacon sat on a wooden chair wearing a plain white shirt and torn jeans. At the appearance of the two city slickers, his head turned. Nick couldn't see past the Patrolman sunglasses, and he couldn't name Deacon's expression because of the frames that hid his eyebrows rather conveniently.

The distaste Hancock held for Deacon came off in waves (though Nick would never be able to fathom what the mayor disliked about the agent). Deacon stood and greeted the guests with a smile that could have fooled Nick if he was a more gullible synth.

"The Great Synth Detective and Mayor of Goodneighbor _finally_ make a visit to our hole-in-the-wall operation. To what do we owe this pleasure?" Nick could read the strain in Deacon's smile, like it was being stretched too wide. At Deacon's question, Nick glanced over at Hancock to see if he wanted to be the one to speak, but at the sight of the ghoul's upturned sneer, Nick decided to take the reigns on this one.

"Hey there, Deacon," Nick greeted evenly. "We were wondering if you could help us on a case."

"A case? How exciting," he gushed, the sarcasm hidden deep in his words. Hancock's scowl deepened. "Well I'll help as much as I can. Whatcha got for me?"

Hancock's frustrated growl interrupted Nick before a word could slip out of him, "Cut the bull, Deacon. We're looking for Nora, and we know you know where she is."

Nick withheld a sigh. Apparently, they were taking the direct approach.

Nick glanced to the agent, and he had to give it to him, the kid could pull a pretty good mask when he had to. Only a single twitch in his eyebrow gave him away, and his already-strained smile managed to stretch a little further as his tone dropped from friendly to apologetic. "Well, I'm sorry to say I don't know where she is. Haven't seen her in a while."

Hancock bristled, his brow furrowing as he showed some teeth. "We know you were the one to go with her when she took out the Institute; you've got to have _some_ idea where she is."

Nick had a sneaking suspicion that Deacon wouldn't respond that well to the brute force Hancock offered.

Deacon's charismatic smile didn't dare to drop in the slightest. "I really don't, sorry fellas. Last I heard from my intel, she was headed up North to start a Deathclaw Sanctuary. Remember that time she took the Deathclaw egg back to it's nest?" He shuddered, "I'll never understand how that woman can have empathy for _literally_ anything, even when it bites and threatens her life."

Well, there was certainly _some_ truth in that bundle of excuses and misdirection, but Nick doubted that even Nora would go out of her way to build a sanctuary for Deathclaws.

However, it seemed clear that Deacon had laced some truth in his excuses.

Nora may not have started a Deathclaw Sanctuary, but she was seeking Sanctuary of some kind.

Hancock jumped the gun. "So she's at Sanctuary?" he asked, trying to clarify for some shred of truth.

Nick couldn't tell for sure, but in that moment, he could have sworn that Deacon was looking right at him, studying his expression, trying to weed out if the detective had managed to put it together.

"No," Nick answered for Hancock. "No, that would be too obvious. She was seeking sanctuary with a lowercase 's'. The Sanctuary up north has too many people. So she's probably at a settlement, a smaller one; the only problem is . . . where?"

Nick fixed Deacon with a cold-blank stare, and at last, the silver-tongued agent said nothing.

For Valentine, that was confirmation enough.

Nick inhaled deep, then let it out slow, not breaking eye contact with Deacon for a single moment. "We don't want to pester her or put her to work or anything," he reassured sincerely, his voice a low rumble. "We just want to know that she's safe, that she's alright."

Deacon regarded the pair of them thoughtfully, something like hesitation behind his stillness. Then, in a single release of air, he conceded, "Wanderer, she . . . after the Institute, she said she wanted some time away, some time to get herself back together. It was-" Deacon paused, and inhaled deeply, "it was a lot to deal with, by the end of the day, for reasons you may not be aware of and that I'm not at liberty to say."

Nick had a somber idea on what that was supposed to mean, but he didn't press further on the issue. His lips pressed together so they formed a thin line. "So where is she?"

For one fast second, Deacon hesitated, but then he allowed. "The Slog. She's at the Slog." In a moment of candor, guilt flashed across Deacon's face as the corners of his mouth tilted down. "I promised her I wouldn't tell, but - _ugh-_ to be honest, she probably needs people like you two more than ever. You might be able to help bring her back a little and remind her what it's all for." The skin above his eyebrows crinkled into a frown. "What the Institute did to her, it was -and I'm just gonna say it- was really really low of them. Like, even lower than usual."

Nick did _not_ like the sound of that _at all_.

Neither him or Hancock pressed for further explanations. Hancock didn't say a word, but turned quick on his heel and started towards the tunnels that would lead back to the surface. Nick reached out to shake hands with the Railroad Agent in an effort to keep the peace, and the bald man accepted the synthetic handshake without a hitch. An amicable smile had curled up half of his expression, and Nick decided it was a genuine one.

"And hey, when you find Wanderer, just. . ." Deacon sighed long and slow. "Make sure she's in an alright place, because she wasn't when we left her there."

"I will," Nick vowed.

Deacon released Nick's skeletal hand, and the man's expression softened into something a little more vulnerable. "I wouldn't have told you guys if I didn't trust you to some degree. Wanderer _does_ trust you though, and, well, that's enough for me, really. She-" he swallowed, "she means a lot to me, something I'm sure you're familiar with."

"She does have that affect on people she meets," Nick agreed. "Quite a charmer, that one."

"Indeed," and Deacon's mask began to return to his expression. "Good luck," he said.

Nick tipped his hat to Deacon in a final farewell, then turned to follow Hancock's retreat.

(**)

"Do you think she'll be there?" Hancock asked as mayor and detective followed the ruined road of a passed civilization. The mayor looked around anxiously, as if he wasn't sure where to focus his attention.

"She'll be there," Nick tried to reassure his friend for the umpteenth time. "Deacon wouldn't lead us astray, or at least, I don't think he would. He knows what we're about." This didn't ease the worry that knit Hancock's brows together. A twinge of guilt hit Nick in the chest, and he softened his voice as he attempted to bring some kind of levity into the conversation. "If we had _Preston_ with us, however, he might not have told us."

Hancock chuckled at that, and smiled a little. "Hell, if I have to go to _another_ settlement that's _marked on my map_ , I will seriously loose my shit."

Nick laughed, and the two fell into a more amicable atmosphere as they crested a hill that distantly revealed the low building that was the Slog.

Hancock didn't need any further prompting from Nick, and he started towards it at a faster pace, brushing past the synth as his old and worn leather boots smacked against the concrete. The mayor's arms moved at his side with building momentum, and Nick had no choice but to hurry after him.

The two friends passed the abandoned playground and wove through an opening in the chain-link fence that led to the sparkling blue tarberry bog. Nick took only a second to appreciate the bright blue of the water as he looked at the workers busy with their farming. The whir of a few turrets hummed nearby; the only other sound to be heard was the soft murmur of workers as they talked through the busy day.

Above, the bright Commonwealth sun glared at the people below it, and while Nick's synthetic eyes easily adjusted, Hancock needed to lift his eyes to shield them from its glare. "Damn, when is someone going to turn that thing off?" he growled to himself as he scanned the area for their target. An edge of anxiety made its way back into his voice. "I don't see her anywhere, Nick. Where is she? Do you think she's really here?"

"Oh, she's definitely here, all right," Nick confirmed, having spotted the black and brown dog lying on the warm concrete. Dogmeat lazily lifted his head to look at Nick and Hancock, but then lowered it when he was content to know that neither of the newcomers were a threat.

Nick followed the dog's gaze to focus on the settlers working in the field of corn, gourds, and tatos. With his hands in his pockets, the detective meandered forward, past the pool so he stood at the edge of the garden. Hancock followed nervously at his side, fidgeting and scanning each worker with a frantic gaze.

It was in that moment that Nick saw her, crouching next to Wiseman as the two worked with their hands buried and stained by fresh earth. Their backs were to him, but Nick could see strands of dark hair poking out from the front of the green rag hood she wore. Neither noticed the arrival of the newcomers, though a few of the working ghouls looked up at them suspiciously.

The tension built up after weeks of no news released itself from Valentine's chest in the form of a shuddering and terribly relieved sigh. Emotion flooded his system like an open dam, and he found he was at a loss for words of what to say to her and just _how_ to say it. His usual silver tongue felt like lead, and his smooth attitude fell flat at the thought of _finally_ seeing her after everything that had happened.

In the end, Nick managed to voice out a single, desperate word, and he managed to choke on it as it built its way up. "Nora?" he asked.

At the call of her name, Nora froze, and Wiseman looked up sharply towards the visitors. Nick saw the leader of the settlement reach towards Nora and place a hand gently on her arm as he looked uncertainly at the new arrivals. The detective's auditory sensors strained, catching the soft question, "You alright? Do you want them to leave?" Valentine tensed, but relaxed and felt a swoop of relief as Nora offered Wiseman a small smile of reassurance. She shook her head, whispered something softer that Nick didn't have time to pick up, and at her allowance, Wiseman's hand slid from her arm. The leader of the settlement stood to his feet, dusted his hands off his pant legs and offered Nora a hand. She took it as he helped lift her up so she could stand, and she brushed her own hands over her clothes in an effort to clean them.

She heaved a breath in, and out, then _finally_ turned to face them. Nick felt his breath catch. Even in farmhand clothes and a green rag hat, she was still breathtaking, captivating in nature alone. And after weeks of missing her, wondering with an aching and distant heart if she was even _alive,_ the sight of her standing tall and proud and intact sent a dancing wave of emotions through the synth's wires. Her usually bright green eyes glimmered dully behind her smeared eyeglasses, but some of their spark returned as she looked at the two newcomers.

A myriad of emotions crossed over her face. Surprise, confusion, guilt, a quick flash of anger, and then an inevitable and relaxed acceptance. The energy seemed to drain from her form in one slow breath, and her gaze lowered to the ground.

Suddenly, Hancock brushed past Nick as he rushed his way to Nora, relief thick and heavy in his voice. "Sunshine!" he cried, and without regard to Nick or the spectators, the feared Mayor of Goodneighbor embraced his arms around Nora's shoulders, burying his head into her neck so his tricorn hat tilted up along his head. "Dammit, I missed you," Nick heard the man huff, and the arms in the red coat tightened around her. "Had me scared as hell I wouldn't see you again."

Nick witnessed the moment in Nora when her eyes softened, and she returned Hancock's embrace. "I'm sorry, John," she murmured against him, and it was only because of Nick's sensitive auditory receptors he could hear them at all. Nora lost some of the tension in her body, and as she relaxed, Hancock was able to hold her even closer. "I won't do that to you again, John, I'm sorry."

"Damn right you won't," he growled into her neck. Nick could see Hancock's hands trembling as he brought one up to cup the back of her head. The ghoul placed a searing kiss against the cloth hood over her neck; Nick felt a subsequent emotion churn dangerously in his gut. The synth kept his emotions as neutral as he could, but his lips pressed together into a thin line.

Hancock took a step back from Nora as the pair slid out from their hug, but their hands remained firmly clasped together. Nora then turned her gaze to Nick, her eyes behind her glasses curious and hesitant. Nick didn't try to hide the sudden frown or the downturn of his lips, and she had the grace to glance down before looking back up. She spoke in a low tone, her voice deep and smokey. In two words, she had him undone.

"Hey, Valentine."

Any remaining anger twisting in Nick's gut relaxed from those two words, replaced by cooling waves of relief at hearing her call his name again. He had feared for the past weeks that he might never hear her voice, that he may never see those glistening green eyes or feel her warm embrace around his mangled body.

Realizing she expected him to reply, Nick choked out, "Hey there, doll. Word around town is that the Institute is taking a permanent dirt nap; people of the 'Wealth have been calling the person who brought their demise as the 'Savior of the Commonwealth.' You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

She smiled carefully at his shrouded words, but she didn't loose her hesitancy. "Don't know a thing," she played along heavily. Her free hand twisted in the loose clothes along her leg, revealing how uncertain she truly was. It took Nick a couple of seconds to piece together as to why she might be so hesitant at the sight of him and not Hancock, and those suspicions were confirmed when her sultry voice wavered out, "Heard that same person also brought about the destruction of the Brotherhood. Destroyed the Prydwen in a ball of fire and destruction. Hundreds if not _thousands_ of people, killed in an instant."

Nick paused. Realization crashed through his system.

She felt _guilty_.

Hancock believed that people who deserved hurtin' got what was comin' to them. For the Mayor, justice could be found at the end of a steel knife or from the definitive pull of a trigger.

Nick, however, held more reservations. Maybe it was the Pre-War in him that sought to find a peaceful resolution before turning to violence, or maybe it was because the easy-going violence that infected the Commonwealth turned his gut. Perhaps it was both.

Either way, Nora felt that the destruction of the Brotherhood was enough for Nick to dislike her, or even _hate_ her.

Nick's thoughtful silence only seemed to confirm Nora's fears, and she went on, her voice lowered, "All those people. . . many of them innocent of whatever the Brotherhood has done. Not soldiers, just children who wanted a place to belong, people who wanted a roof over their heads or a warm meal in their stomachs." Her voice started to waver, and tears began to spill over the rim of her eyelids. Hancock glared sharply at Nick, as if this were all _his_ fault for upsetting her, and Nora's wavering voice went on, "No one else's opinion was taken into account, but I played as the judge, jury, and executioner, as if what I decide was sovereign to this world that I'm not even supposed to be a part of. All of those people, _dead because of-_ "

Nick inhaled sharply and took two long strides to Nora so he could fold his arms around her smaller frame. He didn't say anything, and he didn't need to. His embrace alone was enough to release whatever was building in Nora, because her breath caught as she started sobbing into his coat, her free hand curled up between their chests as she pressed herself closer to him. Nick brushed his metallic claws along her hair so her green rag hood rested along her shoulders. He soothed his skeletal fingers through her dark tresses in an effort to ease her guilt, and he rested his head against her hair as she tucked herself into him.

"You did what you thought was right, doll," he rumbled. "I wouldn't expect anything less from an amazing woman like you."

"Those Brotherhood assholes got what was coming to 'em," Hancock tried to reassure in his gravelly voice.

Her sobbing eased a little bit, but her words hitched as she egged on her guilt. "But, all those people, Nick – people I _worked_ with, people I _cared_ about – dead because of me and-"

" _Shh_ ," he soothed in his low timbre, and Nick turned his head so he could press his face against her hair. His hand with synthetic skin held her waist closer to him. He inhaled softly, and breathed out so strands of her hair tickled his lips. "You're not the only one carrying this burden, counselor. Don't for one second blame yourself for all the bad that happens in this land. Not for a single second." Overcome with emotion for her, Nick's lips pursed together to place a chaste kiss against the crown of her head. He waited for a few seconds, both of them settling in the comfortable silence between the two of them. It was only when Nora's breath softened a little did Nick rumble, "I don't hold it against you, doll, and I never will."

Nora's breath hitched again, and Nick feared she would start to cry again, but, if anything, her breathing came out easier, and her frame relaxed. "Thank, you, Nick. Really. . . Thank you."

One of her hands slid up to cup the side of his face. Nick lifted his head to look at her, and he marveled at the gentleness of her expression and the unnamed emotion smoldering in her gaze.

Nick gulped (though out of habit more than anything else; he didn't have saliva, after all), and he fought to keep the waver out of his own voice. "Not - not a problem, doll."

The Destroyer of the Institute reached up on tiptoes to press impossibly soft lips against the edge of the detective's tattered jawline. "I don't know what I did to deserve a man like you as a friend, Nick Valentine," she crooned like some sort of femme fatale out of an old noir movie.

Nick felt like the hinges of his jaw weren't working, like his gears were stuttering in an attempt to move his mouth. "Guess this is a bad time to tell you that I'm not a man at all."

Nora made a face at him, somewhere between exasperation and disappointment. "None of that, Nick Valentine," she murmured.

He ducked his head down with enough grace to look ashamed for his self-deprecation, and he found himself distracted by her thumb circling over where his collarbone might be.

Hancock's voice jeered from the side. " _Jeez_ you two, just make out already and get it over with."

Just like that, the spell was broken, and Nora took a step away from the synth detective. His chest felt oddly cold without her there for him to hold, but he respectively let his arms fall to his side. "Don't tease, John," she said, but neither man missed the way her hand slid down Nick's arm when she stepped away. She wiped at tear trails down her dusty cheeks, and she let out a shuddering breath. "I guess it was only a matter of time before my boys would come looking for me." Valentine and Hancock's chests swelled a little at being thought of as _her boys_ , but neither commented on it. Nora's arms crossed over her chest, and she frowned in thought for a few moments before enlightenment lifted her features. She looked at the two of them with raised eyebrows. "Deacon told you where I was, didn't he?" Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she sighed, but the annoyance was laced with subdued affection for the agent. She shook her head, smirking, "Didn't think he would break."

Hancock gave a ghoulish grin, "We can be pretty convincing, sunshine."

Nora's eyebrows arched up, and she glanced between the two of them nervously. "You didn't threaten him, did you?"

"He's fine," Nick reassured, his hands secure in his pockets. His fingers itched for a cigarette, but he knew Nora's perceptive gaze would catch it and recognize how on edge their conversation was making Nick. She knew all of his ticks at this point in their relationship. So, instead, he tapped his fingers nervously inside his coat. "Was worried about you, though," he added.

Nora frowned a little in concern, and she nodded jerkily. "Yeah, that sounds like Deacon." She tilted her head back down and scuffed the ground with the toe of her sneakers.

The trio waited in an uncertain and tense silence, until Hancock broke it with a soft word and a reassuring touch of her hand with his. Their fingers interlocked carefully. "What happened in there, sunshine?" he murmured, calling out to her.

The corners of her mouth turned down. "It was when we were getting out of the Institute. Tom was getting everything ready so we could leave, and then-" she took in a shuddering breath, "there was a boy. Shaun."

Hancock frowned and looked between Nick and Nora, searching for answers between them. "I thought your son was . . ." He allowed the sentence to trail away, uncertain in what was allowed to be said.

"Nick knows, John," Nora allowed, prompting Nick to nod in agreement. "About Shaun, I mean, about what he turned into." She kept her eyes focused on the ground beneath her. "And the Shaun that was there, he was a boy. A – um – a synth version of Shaun. . . at ten years old."

Hancock swore under his breath as Nick furrowed his brows in sympathy as the pieces fell in place. "The boy you saw," he filled in. Nora lifted her eyes to meet his, confirming his thoughts, and he went on. "When you - when _we –_ were in Kellog's head, we saw the boy with him in Diamond City. Was _that_ -"

"Yes," Nora said, nodding somberly. "That's the one. The real Shaun programmed him to recognize me as his mother."

" _Damn_ ," Hancock breathed out, his eyes wide.

Nick couldn't break his gaze with Nora, who looked guiltily away. "What happened to the boy?"

Nora glowered. "I couldn't keep him, couldn't take him with me. At least, not to _stay_ with me. Tom stepped in, gave him a place to stay. I-" a breath, and she lifted her eyes to meet Nick's stare head-on, all traces of guilt suddenly gone. "I mourned for the loss of my son long ago. Asking me to suddenly be a mother again, after all this time and what I've been through, it-" another shuddering breath, this one accompanied by tears, "it was too much."

A pulse of guilt resonated through the synth detective for one swift moment from immediately assuming the worst of Nora, that she might have left the child in the Institute to burn. "I'm sorry, doll," he rumbled, "that's – that's pretty low of them, to be sure. I'm sorry."

"Those bastards just don't know when to quit," Hancock growled.

"Thanks, guys," Nora murmured. Hancock pulled her into a one-armed hug so she could rest into his side. Her shoulders lost their tension as she relaxed into his embrace, and she sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

An emotion tugged at Nick's gut, and he was compelled to step forward. Not a word passed from his lips as he reached out a hand to gently take Nora's free hand into his own. Part of him expected her to flinch or shy away, but she turned her palm into his and laced their fingers together, her hand holding his tightly.

For several moments, neither men said anything at Nora's side. Nick silently wondered at the pure marvel that was this woman; she never ceased to surprise him.

Something continued to bother him though, and it scratched at his thoughts like an incessant insect burrowing into his metal skull. He cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the other two, and he looked to Nora hesitantly. "I don't suppose your pal Danse was too thrilled about what happened with the Brotherhood." He was prying, sure, but Nick knew how close Nora and the soldier synth were after Maxon's blind betrayal. He could still feel the disgust thick in the back of his throat as the cast-out Danse continued to blindly follow the ideals of the very faction that kicked him out for something he had no control over.

Whether officially of the Brotherhood or not, Valentine knew Danse would not have been pleased with Nora's actions.

Nick's hypothetical thinking seemed to be correct; Nora immediately curled in on herself, and a gleaming shine in her eyes revealed the fresh tears that threatened to spill back over her eyelashes.

Another sliver of guilt buried itself into Valentine's chest, but he prompted her no further as Hancock held Nora closer against his side. "Hey there, Sunshine," the Mayor called to her softly. "You ain't gotta say nothing you don't want to, ya feel me?" The Mayor of Goodneighbor spoke oh so gently, his voice a soft croon one might use to ease a frightened animal. Nick looked between the two curiously, having never seen the Mayor act this way, and startled when he was caught off guard by the Mayor's sudden change of voice directed at _him_.

"Shut the hell up, Nick," he growled. "She's already been through enough without you badgering her for gossip."

Affronted, Nick's mouth formed into a disapproving line, but before he could defend himself, Nora stepped in. "Easy, Mayor," she laughed softly, and she guided their conjoined hands so she could press her lips to his knuckles in a sincere kiss. Nick almost burst out laughing at the pleased and embarrassed blush that stole over Hancock's expression. "Nick wasn't trying to be cruel; stand down."

The bristled mayor eased under her voice, and he returned the kiss to her palm in the same manner she had. "You're the boss, Sunshine," he rumbled.

Nora's only answer was a thankful smile before she looked back to Valentine with a saddened frown marring her features. "Paladin-" she started, then hesitated, then went back to the beginning. "Danse told me in no uncertain terms that he hated my guts." She spoke plainly, but Nick could _feel_ the hurt in her words as she spoke. "He said he was thankful for all I had done for him, but after destroying the Prydwen. . ." Nora seemed to choke on her words as she swallowed and blinked back more tears, "He could never forgive me. Refused to ever _speak_ to me, much less travel together after what I had done. Our – our friendship is over."

A hot flash of -maybe this was _anger_?- went through Valentine; he had an unmistakable urge to strangle the foolish ex-soldier, and judging from Hancock's expression, the Mayor felt the same way.

"Crew-cut was an idiot," Hancock tried to amend as he rested his chin atop Nora's head. "Couldn't tell when he had a good thing goin' for him."

" _I_ killed _hundreds_ of-"

"Don't get started on that, again," Valentine warned, worried Nora would plunge herself back into a pool of guilt. Encouraged by her glance towards him, he went on, "We wouldn't expect anything more from anyone else. And after all the good you've done for the Commonwealth, it's easy to see who you really are beneath all that armor."

"Nicky's right, kiddo," Hancock agreed. "No one is going to judge you for doing what you did, because you actually had the balls to do it in the first place." Hancock brushed his lips along her hair. "The important thing is that _we_ know who you truly are, and that's good enough for us. Soldier boy can go jump off a cliff."

Valentine felt the urge to add. "Just because he drank the kool-aid, doesn't mean you have to, also."

That little joke earned him a look from Nora, one of bemusement, while Hancock raised a brow in confusion at the pre-war reference. "The hell is kool-aid?" he asked.

The pre-war relics chuckled softly, and Nora's head fell forward to rest on Nick's shoulder as she laughed softly. A bolt of warmth passed through Nick's system, and he forced himself to breathe evenly as he rested his head against the softness of Nora's hair. His thumb absently ran in circles over Nora's hand, and the woman against his side hefted a tired sigh.

"So what d'ya think, Sunshine?" Hancock asked from her other side, his voice soft and gentle.

"Hm?" Nora hummed, her voice tired but content.

Nick gave her hand a squeeze, "Ready to make way towards home?"

Nora looked up and turned her head back and forth to observe the ghoul mayor and synth detective. More than anything, Nick could feel the warmth that started to radiate from within her, and her smile brightened the green of her eyes.

The detective had to avert his gaze from the brightness of her smile, but he couldn't hold back his own when Nora's voice broke through.

"Yeah." Her hand squeezed the synth's. "Let's go home."

(**)

 **Thank you so much for reading! :) I hope you enjoyed this little two-shot! It's been open on my computer forever so I figured it was about time I publish it for others to enjoy.**

 **Don't forget to review! :D**


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